Lessons Learned

Splitting up my gold coin with the attendant, I sought out some food before going to rest. They recommended the tavern below the lodgings. It certainly felt like they were living in a circular economy with the Markets, but there was something to be said for the convenience. Which was probably why it worked.

Outside, I could see how empty the place truly was now. The decorative stone of the plaza was actually visible now and there was even a fountain that I apparently couldn’t even see before. Everyone was a good half head or more taller than me. So it was difficult to see over them. But with fewer people crowding around I could see how beautiful it was.

There was a surprising amount of color not just from the buildings. The roads were painted with vivid tones. I thought maybe it might have been a portrait or scene, but it was just a pattern. A very elaborate one that worked in a series of overlapping circles appearing like waves crashing upon itself. It was painted in blues, greens and reds as if to mimic a sunset over the sea. But I was just guessing.

I remembered that there was some sort of restaurant or tavern when I was looking around the first time. It was far easier to find and I stepped inside. Crammed into the side with one more building, it didn’t look like it had a lot of space from the front. The interior stretched pretty far back. It was almost entirely carved in wood so much I swear I could smell the forest, but I think that was the beer or I guess ale.

The first floor of the establishment was crowded, more than I wanted to deal with. Upstairs, there was a little more room. It at least wasn’t as much trouble finding a place to sit. Once more I got a bunch of stares at me still trying to figure out their meaning. I just tried to ignore them.

While I waited for a waitress or server of some sort to come I went back to the menu. There was still plenty that I hadn’t dug through. I found even more additional stats, but they just looked like modifiers rather than ones I could directly affect. It would save me a little on mental math and experimentation, but there would still have to be more. I would just have to not go looking for another Ungaust this time.

There was a menu for my equipment, though it seemed less that I could remove things since I have to physically dress myself. It looked like a place that let me see what effects and stats the gear had. I wondered if it was possible to see that directly on the gear or if I’d have to equip it to learn that. Another thing to test later. I kept adding things to the list. It felt like I was back in closed beta tests for MMOs.

“Evening, Sir! Do you know what you would like to order?” I closed out of the menu quickly and looked over to an adult man standing before me. Dressed in simple clothes of a tunic and pants, there looked to be grease or some spills on his tunic. A busy day I guessed.

I didn’t see a menu so I could only shake my head. “I’m new, what are my options?”

“We have omurice, cheese pizza, hamburger, leam stew–”

“Wait, did you say omurice and pizza? Are you serious?” Those weren’t fantasy foods in my head. Why would they have that?

They nodded, not even slowing down. “There are a few cuisines that our chef has learned that we have ingredients for. They were taught to him by a past Hero.”

Past heroes, I had to return a nod for that. It made sense. The way the King spoke made it seem like it was just part of their routine to have summoned people in their nation. Which begged the question, how many heroes had they summoned from our world? Not everyone got dragged here, but was it just this kingdom? “I’ll try the omurice, unless you’ve got another Japanese dish on the menu?”

“Sorry, unless you can share your knowledge.” He actually leaned in a little, looking uncomfortably eager for me to give him a positive answer. Was there something wrong with their own meals?

I had to disappoint him. Cooking was never my forte as much as my dad wished it was otherwise. The combini was my preferred chef. “Afraid I’m not much of a cook. I’m more likely to teach poison than something edible. Unless you were an assassin, then I’m your guy!” They frowned as the joke didn’t seem to go over very well. “Omurice and whatever’s safe to drink. Unless you’re going to surprise me with soda or something.”

“No, I’ll bring you a Lyrian Ale.” There was a bit of curtness to that. I guess he was really disappointed that I didn't have anything to offer. I could understand the desire to want to learn things, but did they even have the food to make some of the things I knew. Like can they even make soy sauce? I certainly couldn’t. Which made me think more about what I ordered. ‘Do they have rice? Would they even be offering it if they didn’t?’ Suddenly, I wasn’t sure if I should have ordered that. I wasn’t really even missing it, it just sounded safe.

I settled into the wood chair feeling it creak and groan a bit. Going back to the menus I tried to poke around for anything else that might be useful for me right now. Buried a little, I found that there was a listing for weapon experience. There was a bar and I was at one percent, but it didn’t really tell me a lot about that. Though apparently that went for my gear as well. And more curiously it was very specific with proper names for each piece and a percent, not just a general stat.

This seemed very strange to me. I was used to systems that would list weapon experience or skills by type, sword, daggers, polearms and so forth. There wasn’t specific experience per weapon unless there was a weapon mastery system that unlocked an ability or allowed for a permanent skill to stay even after it was unequipped. But as far as I could see my weapon had no such skill. Did that mean that some do? This system could be far more complex than I gave it credit for.

While I was lost in my thoughts, my meal got served up. They placed it in front of me with a fairly clean looking fork and spoon. The bronze and wooden mug filled nearly to the top with whatever ale he mentioned. I wondered how strong it was. I could handle my alcohol well enough. So perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad.

Though the omurice seemed from an outside appearance correct. But my stomach groaned and I remembered my whole sense of time and day was off. They grabbed me in the middle of the night. I should be tired. I was hungry at least, so even if it was bad I didn’t care.

I cut into a little with the spoon, seeing the rice under the egg, I think. There was a lot of sauce. It wasn’t quite like what I remembered, but they were probably making due with things. I scooped it up and sampled my meal.

It didn’t even take a second for sadness and disappointment to crush my spirit. This really wasn’t it. I wasn’t even sure it was rice. I felt like they chopped up bread and baked it or something. It didn’t have the right consistency. And the egg had a strange tangy aftertaste. I wanted to cry. They ruined rice. I should have just gotten some local at least then I wouldn’t have expectations.

Eventually, I made it through my meal and went to sleep almost feeling like I had been punished. Tomorrow will be a better day. Please, make it a better day! It wasn’t going to be one, was it?